there is an ever-growing bump in my belly.
this tiny little human whose name i do not know, whose personality i’ve not yet met, whose cheeks and fingers and eyes i haven’t yet gotten to see–she is growing, kicking, and wiggling, telling me hundreds of times a day:
hi, mama. i’m here.
it’s strange to have time so filled with elation and terror. joy over every movement and imagining hearty cries and needy fingers, and terror over the prospect of loss–so very unlikely, but so very real.
preparation. something i thrive on, something i chase and long for.
a job interview, i prepare with research, practicing answers, scheduling the day of.
a series of tasks to complete in a day, and i prepare by writing out a schedule, arranging tasks in order of importance, and strictly adhering to whatever plan i’ve conceived.
yet here i am, one of the greatest tasks of my life, and i am firmly seated in transition, waiting on a house, on funds, on ability.
it is frustrating.
endlessly frustrating, to someone who wants to plan every single moment of every single day.
in pregnancy, in childbirth, so much control is taken from my hands.
so much is out of my reach.
but maybe that’s the beauty of motherhood.
it forces you to slow down and speed up all at once, your days no longer filled with thoughts of self–self love, self doubt, self loathing–Self is no longer standing on a pedestal. instead, a tiny eli, or tiny elena sits on a pedestal, with simple needs and simple desires, placing the complications and foolishness of the grown-up world into a fierce perspective: you are not your own.
i have never been my own.
but this is so beautifully, painfully, and blessedly reinforced every single moment i feel my baby moving against my ribs, or wiggling from side to side as i rest.
i am not my own.
and despite my overwhelming desire to control and to plan, i am so very thankful for the hourly reminder that my controlling nature and my planning are not real, but are whispers, smoke, and ash in a life that should be focused toward service, love, kindness, and trust in the One who has knit this sweet creature in my womb.
i am forever in her debt for showing me, already, what love looks like and how it should be.